


Sometimes the Stars Don't Fall (and fuck it if they do)

by DesertMoon



Category: My Chemical Romance, Pencey Prep
Genre: Black Parade Era, Fluff, Late at Night, Love, M/M, Making Out, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Revenge Era, Tour Bus, Van Days, cuteness, tour nights hooking up and all that fun stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 13:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4393454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertMoon/pseuds/DesertMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes they carry on because they love what they do, and sometimes they carry on because they love each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes the Stars Don't Fall (and fuck it if they do)

**Author's Note:**

> **DISCLAIMER** : This piece of writing does not contain any factual information. These characters are entirely fictional and I make no attempt to represent any real people. I ask that readers have respect for our community; please do not share this work where it won't be welcome. Should this work offend or upset, please contact me. I will happily and immediately discuss, or simply take it down.

Nights like this usually ended up with Gerard thinking about the start. These nights at home, alone, waiting for tour to start up again. Only now they'd been touring in a bus for two years, not a van. Hotel nights were two to a room, not four. Songs were older, venues were bigger, but a lot of things had stayed the same. 

Like the way Mikey still mimed vomiting whenever Frank or Gerard had a birthday because one of them got soppy at the gifts given to them by the other. A few years ago it would have been something cheap and seemingly pointless. Like, one year Frank bought Gerard a comic, and everyone laughed at Gerard's shocked expression when he opened it. They didn't get why Gee refused to leave Frank's side for the rest of the evening. Mikey ignored them, but Ray made endless attempts to discover the sentimental value of such a basic present. Gerard never told him that it was a particular issue of Doom Patrol which he and Frank talked about on the day they'd met. He'd long since lost his own copy, but Frank spotted it in Germany and remembered the conversation at once, despite it having taking place years ago. He saved it for 6 months so he could surprise Gerard on his birthday, fingers crossed behind his back that Gee remembered too. 

Then, only last year, the entire room had gone quiet when Frank choked up at his birthday dinner, because even Bob had never seen him cry. No matter how much everyone begged, Frank wouldn't show them what brought tears to his eyes. Gerard knows that it's still somewhere in Frank's nightstand at home.

Some other things changed. Frankie used to pretend it was the booze making him nestle closer to Gee when they sat together, and blame it on the cold that he slept up against him every night. It was 'coincidence' that they sat together in every interview possible. Gerard used to force himself to discard the soft words Frank would whisper into his ear when the others were asleep. He didn't think too much of their sloppy but frequent hookups after gigs. He blamed Frankie's Pot, or his Cocaine. Every time Frank's hand slipped it's way into Gerard's pants in the middle of the night, he convinced himself it was just because he was bored and lonely from months of touring. This, however, never stopped him drifting off to sleep with a warmth in his chest which had nothing to do with the absinth Mikey bought them. 

He didn't remember when the excuses stopped tumbling from Frank's lips. One day it became a given that Frank would sprawl over Gerard's lap while they watched Jaws on a hotel night. When the group split into twos it was Frank and Gerard, Mikey and Ray. It was just the way it worked. He thought, though, that he remembered when he started to let Frank's words filter into his head. It was somewhere amongst the drunk nights at Warped Tour, deep in the hazy 5am rest-stop confusion when Frank pushed him up against a wall and the floodgates opened. Gerard heard every word he said. It might have been something about Frank's lips hot against his neck, or the 16 beer's they'd been drinking, but neither of those things were new. Frank pushed himself against Gerard and mumbled into his shoulder about his eyes, and the way he sang, and how hot the show was going to be tomorrow; because Gee was in it. This time when Gerard kissed Frank back, he meant it in a way he hadn't let himself before. 

They never talked about it, but Frank could feel the change too. So now, whenever he catches Gerard after a show, both of them are riding adrenaline rather than poison, and it's with a smile that Frank pushes him into the nearest store closet or bathroom. It's probably Gerard's favourite change. 

Some of the changes weren't as pleasant. Bob leaving wasn't pleasant. Ray and Mikey falling out for six months definitely wasn't pleasant, but at least they were over that now. Gerard's thoughts drifted from Frank to his brother as he rolled over in bed, staring out of his window to watch the rain fall over the city. Each drop sparked yellow with reflected light from the street. Mikey was struggling. He pretended not to notice when the rest of them told him to go easy on their nights out. Gee didn't like to think about that too much. 

Sometimes the nights were hard. The cocaine got old pretty fucking fast. Getting sober was old from the moment Gerard started. For everyone. 

Frank stopped sneaking onto his bunk or into his lap when the lights were out. In the hotel they slept silently with their backs to one another. That is, when they both made it to the room together. 

When they hooked up after a show it was full of sharp edges and shoves and that same silence that Gerard has a feeling he'll be running from for the rest of his life.

Sometimes they fought for other reasons. Two at a time, or all against all, and it would take a round of beers and a day to cool off before they were back on their feet.

Frankie's tendency to get stoned while they were recording often meant it was a more like a week of cool-down, rather than a day.

When he dropped the weed and started with the anxiety meds shit didn't improve.

hey hit him like a sledgehammer.

It was even obvious on stage, and it upset him. It still upsets him. 

But at least Gerard could get his arms around Frank again. Once they'd mellowed out; fought some of their own battles, it was always just the two of them when the lights went down. They weren't always happy, but they could be unhappy together, and there isn't a day that goes by that Gee doesn't remind himself that they could have come out of that year so, so much worse...

A year of too little, too much. Nights of silence. Hours of sitting on opposite ends of the bus. Bottles of alcohol underneath pillows because sometimes going to the bar with strangers still didn't get them to sleep. When the fans got too much, and some felt the weight of it more than others...

Some nights, rarely, someone would give up. There would be screaming matches. Speeches about letting go of the dream, creating, making a difference in the world. Screaming, crying, one or two split lips... and eventually they'd be talked down. They'd always be talked down, because the band was family. The band was everything.

All it would take was a good show; an encouraging soundcheck; Frankie running to the front of the bus, bright eyed, new riff ideas spilling from his lips; maybe a new friend; or just a fucking memory and they'd remember. Sometimes a single song was enough to remind them why they started; why it was worth carrying on, and not just because that's all they'd ever known.

Gerard would stumble off stage, Frank on his heels, and as soon as they locked eyes, Gerard knew that he could stay on the road forever. No force of habit or fear of alternatives was holding him there. This was his choice, and when his fingers locked tightly with Frank's inked ones, he knew he could do this until they died- or were killed trying. He felt like he would do anything if Frank asked him; if he could feel this good all the time.

And on the days of stony silence and sitting alone, Ray would make a comment on a TV show and Mikey would laugh, and just like that they'd fall back into step. They'd always fall back into step, because they were brothers, boyfriends, best friends... 

It was a rough cycle. Every month turned into a mess of bar fights, bad shows, slimy record companies and increasing tension. But also adrenaline, parties, road friends, and fucking love. So much fucking love in everything they did. Maybe one day the tough nights will start to outweigh the good. And then, they'd always agreed: then they would stop. As soon as the fun ended, they'd pack up and go home. Gerard knew that some members of the band were more afraid of this day coming than others, but they'd be ready when the time came. Because if they weren't ready, then it wasn't time. 

He tried not to hate himself for preferring to let his mind drift back to Frank. Using him, as he so often did, as his security blanket. His safety. 

Gerard wonders vaguely if he could remember exactly when he fell in love, but all he can see is a tangle of black ink on soft skin. Frank's laugh, and the colour of his eyes and his smile and his fucking golden heart blur into white noise as Gerard finally falls asleep. On the edge of consciousness he pulls his duvet to his face and squeezed his eyes closed. Only four weeks until they were back on tour, and they'd be back in New Jersey together. Four weeks until Frank would crowd his space at every given opportunity. Steal his cereal and no doubt piss him off to breaking point. But then he'd crawl into Gerard's bunk in the middle of the night and slip his arm under Gerard's shirt and he'd forgive him. 

And, as much as Mikey accused him of having favourites, he was so ready to be with the whole band. All four of them. Even though it was a big tour, and it kind of felt like they were on the verge of something alien, the old excitement still stirred in the bottom of Gerard's stomach. They had their first arena show in a few months, and a whole new tech crew, and probably the biggest road team they'd ever had, but he had a good feeling. His brain was going offline, so he could forget that they had to write a whole new album next year. He didn't have to think about his brother's struggle to stay afloat. All he felt was the buzz which had been on and off in his gut since that night they climbed into a bus to play their first show. It was a buzz he felt tenfold whenever he turned towards Frank onstage and saw nothing but passion pulsing out of him, channelled through the amps and blasted out at 115 decibels. He smiled at the thought that he was the only one who was allowed to feel the passion radiating from Frank up close. Thousands of kids would kill to just shake Frank's hand, and Gerard didn't blame them, but he was still smug that he was the only one allowed to do so much more...

When Gerard finally passed out he was glad that they'd made it this far. Even if everything ended tomorrow, he'd still be glad. Because, as much as he'd loved the beginning, there was something nice about knowing just how good they had it. Something calming about looking back at all the shit they'd survived, because it gave him hope that they could survive double the bullshit that was thrown at them this time around. 

And if they didn't make it out the other side, nothing could take away all the years they'd got behind them. So, for the hundredth time, he slept on a substance-less buzz, and a vague thought that he should call Frankie tomorrow to remind him that sometimes existence wasn't so bad after all. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure about this??  
> ***  
> I'll re read later and fix it up if it's shitty? Idk this might be awful I haven't slept in years.  
> ***  
> ?? help ??  
> MoOn xo


End file.
